Heart of the Ocean Book Excerpt

A dark secret . . . a grieving ghost . . . a handsome stranger . . .
What more could Eliza Robinson want?
Except for maybe her life.

In Heather B. Moore’s enthralling 1840’s historical romance, Heart of the Ocean, Eliza Robinson has turned down the very pretentious Mr. Thomas Beesley’s marriage proposal. As a business partner of Eliza’s father, Thomas quickly discredits the family and brings disgrace to the Robinson name.

While her father scrambles to restore his good name in New York City, Eliza flees to the remote Puritan town of Maybrook to stay with her Aunt Maeve. Although relieved to be away from all- things-male and unforgiving gossip columns, odd things start to happen to Eliza, and she is plagued by a ghostly voice. Her aunt’s explanation? That Eliza is being haunted by a woman who died of a broken heart twenty years ago.

After Aunt Maeve is tragically killed, Eliza’s life is put in danger as she tries to uncover the mystery of her aunt’s death. She encounters Jonathan Porter in Maybrook, whose presence in the town seems suspicious, yet she finds herself drawn to him. When she discovers that Jonathan’s dark secrets may be the link between the dead woman who haunts her and her aunt’s murderer, Eliza realizes that Jonathan is the one man she should never trust.

Author Heather B. Moore
Heather B. Moore is the award-winning author of ten novels, two inspirational non-fiction books, and two anthologies, including The Newport Ladies Book Club Series, A Timeless Romance Anthology, and Christ’s Gifts to Women (co-authored by Angela Eschler).

Her historical fiction is published under the pen name H.B. Moore. She is the two-time recipient of Best of State in Literary Fiction, two-time Whitney Award Winner, and two-time Golden Quill Winner for Best Novel. Her most recent historical novel under H.B. Moore is Daughters of Jared (2012 LUW Gold Award of Excellence & 2012 LUW Best Book Trailer).

Without thinking of what she was doing, Eliza touched his cheek. Jon didn’t move, didn’t pull away, as she ran her fingers along his face then down his neck, stopping at his shoulder. “Jon,” she whispered, “you can’t change the past.”

His bloodshot eyes seemed to burn through hers. He brought his hand to her neck and lightly touched the brutal markings. Eliza bit her lip, suppressing a gasp as his fingers brushed her skin, but she didn’t move away. His touch was both painful and exhilarating at the same time. She closed her eyes, inhaling his nearness.

Then she felt his lips on hers, soft at first, hesitant. She couldn’t say she was surprised that he’d kissed her—there had always been something tugging them together—but still, she felt like she was in a dream, that this wasn’t really happening. Couldn’t be happening.